


of beetroots and aprons

by Mehitsuji



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, King George - Freeform, M/M, Royalty AU, Yearning, insp from little women, knight dream, not beta read we die like georges gay little mushroom house
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:54:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28120467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mehitsuji/pseuds/Mehitsuji
Summary: George has a duty as a prince to marry someone as an economic, royal prospect.Dream takes notes of where he wants to kiss George. George thinks Dream is like the sun, and has no idea how his armor doesn't melt off of him. Chaos ensues.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 275





	of beetroots and aprons

**Author's Note:**

> this is entirely inspired by scenes from Little Women (2019) between Amy and Laurie (the banquet, and apron scene)! So, kind of an au in that way-- just wanted to credit that for the idea!! I know the rituals are intricate! I know they are!

George dug his hands into the dirt, feeling the coolness of the damp ground seep in through his gardening gloves. He worked through weeds almost aggressively, displeased and irritated at the last week of events. 

Royalty meant a lot of things for George. It meant responsibility to his land, and the people in it. He had to become someone strong and structured, someone who could support both the image and reality of a strong leader. Nevertheless, this included the prospect of marriage-- and choosing the right person for others rather than just himself. 

This frustrated him, and in the meantime he took out this frustration on the weeds that surrounded the potatoes and beetroots in the castle garden. Standing up, he shook off his gloves, patting them on his already messy apron and throwing the discarded weeds into a wicker basket at his side. 

As if on cue, Dream skipped casually through the door, adding some warmth to the tense energy George’s overthinking had brought to the room. “Your princeliness,” He said in a sing-songy voice. “Taking out your stress on the potatoes again I see.” He swooped in close, grabbing one out of one of the baskets strewn about the room. George rolled his eyes on instinct. Dream dropped it back into the basket below him. 

“I don’t want to speak to you right now.” George huffed, lifting up the discarded weeds to toss them out.

Dream had been his best friend since childhood, and now stood as his personal knight (which led to some kind of ego boost in the depths of Dream’s head). And yet, though he had pledged a fierce (and true) loyalty to George, he never ceased to poke fun at him. 

However, he had recently crossed the line a bit for George, getting drunk at a recent banquet and making a fool of himself (and George in the midst). 

* * *

“I was waiting in my room for an hour, you know.” George said, finally seeing Dream draped along a loveseat along with some of the musicians that had been hired for the night. He had a face that looked caught, but still held a fraction of his still-cocky grin. George felt like hitting him in the chest, even knowing it wouldn’t do much.

George started striding away, too frustrated to start anything. There were important guests that evening, marriage prospects, people who wanted alliances, people he needed to impress. 

“George!” Dream pleaded (why did he have to say his name like that?). “George, hey!” It seemed like he could begin laughing out of awkwardness at any second. He didn’t like being in the wrong. 

“I ought to let you go of your position, you know” George hissed.

“Oh? And why is that.” 

George couldn’t look at him, didn’t know which way his heart would sway. “Because I loathe you. You’re an idiot and I hate you. You’ve done terribly recently, I have no clue what you’re doing with yourself. Making a mess at best.” George spat. He knew he didn’t mean it, but sometimes mean words came easier than true ones in these instances.

“Well I suppose I’m just a mess then.” Dream chuckled. “Sorry for leaving you in the presence of such a mess, my sweet prince.” His arms spread out, one hand still holding onto a tall yet dainty glass of wine. 

“What is your problem?” George said, finally turning to face him entirely, cheeks flushed out of one or two fleeting emotions. Dream did look messy, but it suited him, a messily buttoned top, slight stubble on his chin, bits and pieces of scars on his face that George did his best not to think about. “You’re given-- given such a potential at an early stage of your life-- you’re strong and brave and intelligent -- and you’re wasting it on foolish, selfish temptations.”

“Selfish tem-- George is it not me who has my life pledged to you? Explain to me how that’s selfish.” Dream pressed. He was in the wrong here, but grasping onto anything he could for leeway to get out of George’s anger. “I believe I’ve done a good job at it too.”

George let out an uneven breath of air. He was right, those scars covering his skin proved it. They always seemed to look back whenever George looked at them. They served as a reminder. After a bout of silence, he spoke. “Well, not tonight, apparently.” He turned around to leave Dream where he stood-- a hand reached out and enveloped his own. Big, steady, grounding.

“Where are you going?” Dream asked, sounding as if he felt entitled to follow, small wrinkles of guilt fit between his scrunched eyebrows. George looked back with large, knowing eyes, not saying a word, his chest puffed out slightly from the large gasp of air he had taken.

Dream let go of George’s hand, bringing it back to his side and stretching his palm and fingers at the loss of touch. They held eye contact, neither one wanting to back out first.

“My duty.” George spoke quickly.

Dream shook his head, “Bullshit.” he whispered, knowing that meant George would be off spending the night flirting with suitors that had made it to the banquet. Maybe that was why he showed up late, he didn’t want to see it happen. Or, maybe he should’ve showed up on time, tried to keep his prince all to himself for the hour (perhaps he was selfish like that). 

George gave him one last look, his eyes squinted and mouth turned sour. With another big gulp of air he had left Dream to saunter back where he had begun the night.

* * *

  
  


“Oh, come on, I’m sorry I misbehaved I--” Dream started, striding his way over to where George paced about with his gardening tools and plants. “I shouldn’t have acted like that. I’m sorry George, really.”

George only tilted his head back, giving Dream a glare that felt sharper than any sword he’d been struck with before. “I’m sure you are.”  
“Does this mean you accept my apology?” He asked, glancing over towards the freshly pulled foods. “I’ll help you, come on.” They’d fought like this before, in fact-- they butted heads pretty often, but never enough to hold a grudge. It was just part of their relationship, the play fighting, the banter. Dream, however, did feel like he crossed a line this time.

It was well known (despite the fact that George would never admit it) that things were getting tense for his best friend. He was reaching an older age, prime time for marriage, and learning more about his duties as the prince, and someday the king. It was never the work with the townsfolk that bothered George, he enjoyed getting out, not letting himself feel too far removed from reality. But, marriage had always bothered them in the way that it was some kind of deal, a proposal of anything but love in its purest form. 

It had always been just the two of them. When thinking about George being with someone else, Dream couldn’t help but feel a pang of (what he refused to call) jealousy. He couldn’t help but act up when he was reminded of this.

Up until recently, neither of them had entirely paid attention to the way they fell together so easily. The proposition of marriage only made this sudden, unspoken urge of yearning towards each other so much harder.

George softened his glare at Dream, slowly beginning to give in. “Bring me the carrots,” He pointed towards the corner of the room where a heaping basket of carrots piled on top of each other, “Help me wash them off.” Dream smiled, giving a small nod in agreement and heading over to scoop up the basker.

George stood in front of a large, deep sink, where he had started to wash some dirt from the plants. Dream joined at his other side, placing the basket down on the small table towards his side. He stood close to George, enjoying the mood his presence always put him in. 

“So…” Dream tested.

George didn’t respond, focusing on a particularly dirty potato.

“How did… How did the rest of the night go?”

“This is why I didn’t feel like talking to you.  
“Hey!” Dream laughed, gently elbowing George’s side. “Seriously. I want to know.”

George left them in a comfortable silence before speaking up, “My mother has taken interest in some royal daughter from a neighboring Kingdom. I met her.” 

Dream risked a glance to George, who wore an apathetic face. While it hurt Dream to see him like this, and hear him talk about anyone else-- he also couldn’t help but feel a slight happiness that George seemed to have no feelings for this girl. He also noted how George’s cheeks looked soft, he wondered what it might feel like to run his thumb over them. Warm and full in his palms.

“Oh,” Dream replied, “Did you two dance?”

George huffed, “No. We didn’t dance. It was mainly just my mother talking to hers while we stood awkwardly by their sides.”

“And you’re not … betrothed to her or anything. Are you?”   
George shook his head, “No but-- not yet.” 

“It doesn’t sound like you’re wildly enthralled by this idea.” Dream kept feeling as if he was crossing a line. It was a line he wanted to cross. 

George stopped what he was doing, and quickly turned the water faucet off. He shook out the foods he had washed, draining as much of the water he could out of the basket. “Really? I’m sorry I’m not blushing and stumbling over my words, I suppose. Marriage isn’t necessarily anything but an economic prospect for  _ me, Dream. _ ” He placed the basket down, turning to look in the younger’s eyes. “She’s got a lot of money and power, lots. I have a duty to maintain just as much as my father and mother maintained their own.”

Dream held up his hands in defense. “I don’t think it’s selfish of you to want to marry someone you’ve fallen in love with on your own accord.”

George paused, taking him in. A small tint of red spread over his cheeks.  _ Someone I’ve fallen in love with on my own accord.  _ Dream looked back at him expectantly. 

George shook his head, “I suppose so. But that doesn’t mean it’s an option.”

“You’re the prince, you ought to make it an option” Dream said, trying to lighten the moment.

George rolled his eyes, same as always. Dream made a note in his head that he wanted to kiss him there too, asleep, lids closed and dreaming. “You’re such an idiot.” The prince spoke. (Dream liked to think of this as an ‘I love you’)

George started to pry the dirty gloves from his hands. Dream followed suit, finishing up on the carrots he had brought over and straining them out. The light poured in from the windows of the greenhouse, casting an orange hue over the both of them. George looked at Dream while he finished up his task, and thought to himself that he looked the best in golden light like this. They should’ve spent all their time together in this light, so he could see him all golden and bright. Dream turned and caught his eye, smiling back at him.

“What?” He asked.

Before George could reply, the sound of a carriage approached the front of the castle not far from them. The cobblestone clicked under the hooves of the horses. George knew it was his suitor, but wanted to pretend like he didn’t. He knew Dream knew his typical schedule for the day as well, but he seemed to be doing his best to sound out the outside as well. They fell into a heavy silence. George thought about staying there until some other royal assistant or knight came to find him, and take him away for his appointment. 

“That’s probably her.” George sighed, knowing he still had a responsibility higher than his own self desires. “Could you come unbutton me?” He asked, eyes soft and even. Dream didn’t reply, and started his way over to the brunette. 

George turned so that his back faced Dream, straight and firm, his arms folded in his front awkwardly. He turned to look out the window, not entirely sure what to do with his eyes. Dream stood behind him, unbuttoning the apron at the small of his back. He looked up to go over the details of the nape of Georges neck. He wanted to kiss him there as well, tender and sensitive. He batted away thoughts of how easily he might bruise from a kiss there as well, with skin so soft and delicate and the knight’s rough and torn. It was dangerous for him to think like that.

George could feel his eyes on him, and he straightened his head back towards the front, looking around to ease tension. The warmth of Dream’s breath crept across his neck, enough to make him shiver. It tickled slightly, he wanted to grasp his hand over the spot for some kind of physical relief-- or rather have Dream do it for him. They were close, closer than they needed to be. 

Dream loosened the small knot on the back of the apron, the fabric slowly springing loose. Dream looked back up at the short cut hair. He had spent so much time admiring George’s face, he never really thought about what laid behind him as well. Either way, he was pretty and real and his (for the time being). 

As soon as the apron was undone, George quickly slinked it off the front of his body and moved away from Dream. He threw it in a hamper, before pulling on the coat he had hung towards the door of the room. He checked his hands for any remaining dirt from the earlier gardening, and slightly smoothed out his hair. Dream stood still, body resting against the glass of the greenhouse, admiring his view. 

George took a breath of air, “How do I look?”

Dream smiled, happy to offer his praise, “Beautiful.”

Dream expected some kind of snarky remark, but George flushed slightly, and nodded his head forward to look at Dream with a sweet, almost devilish smile. 

George let his smile fade into a smaller one, giving one last nod to Dream before he started to head out the door. Dream hated to see him (George, so sure of himself, cunning and argumentative) so defeated. 

“Wait.” Dream said, just as George stepped foot into the hallways of the castle. George straightened out and looked back at him, tilting his head in confusion.

“What?”

“The-- The horses might like to eat some carrots, you know.”

“Oh? They might?”

“Yes, and who’s to say when we left to go bring them those carrots.”

George stared, raising an eyebrow. “Nobody has seen us…”

“And who’s to say that after we gave them those carrots that we thought it might be nice to take one out on a ride.”

“You’re saying this like a story, and it really isn’t Dream-- I shouldn’t even-- I need to go. I’ll embarrass my mother.” 

“No, no, you won’t. I’ll say it was my fault. Or I’ll say it was somebody else’s fault. Someone must’ve told me you’d have company at 7 rather than 5.”

George knew he shouldn’t be entertaining the idea. But the second he had stepped foot out of the greenhouse he had started to miss Dream, even if he was still in his eyesight. He wanted to be with him, and close to him, closer than unbottoning a stupid gardening apron. Much closer together than they would be if he went on the date he was signed up for. George turned around fully towards Dream, sticking his head to make sure there was no company in the hallways around them. The stables weren’t far from where they were, they could sneak out easily, they’d done it before. 

“I suppose…” Dream looked towards him, eyebrows high and excited, George smiled back at him, reaching out a hand. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them”

Dream beamed, bolting forward to grab George’s hand and begin tugging the two of them off towards the stables. He almost forgot to grab the carrots, and managed a handful of them before running out the door. “And what we pretend not to know shouldn’t hurt us!”

George couldn’t help but give a real, happy laugh. It had been a while since he was defiant, and it was always best to be defiant with Dream.

They ran through the hallways with ease, using shortcuts to get to the horses that they had learned in their childhood. George held on tight to Dream’s hand, leading him where he wanted to be. His hair bounced in front of him, the hood of his bright green top bouncing with it. He ran so fast it was almost hard to keep up, but George just smiled through and caught himself if he tripped, laughing quietly towards the blonde who looked back at him, still golden.

When they got to the stables, Dream pushed an ear against the door to ensure he heard no talking or human movement. George pressed against the entrance to the stables, hiding from the view of the hallways, cheeks high and red with excitement. Dream came back to grab him when he was sure of a horse exclusive presence. They entered the door together, George taking time to close it back up like it was initially, as Dream pulled a saddle over his own horse (offering her a carrot, of course). 

“Don’t have time to get two ready. Let’s just go on Spirit.” Dream said, pulling the horse out of her stable. George nodded, and headed over towards him. Without asking, Dream lifted him onto the horse with ease, George gasped in response to the firm hands supporting his waist. He shook it off easily, as Dream hopped on himself in front of George. George grabbed onto Dream’s waist himself, the other hitching his breath at the contact.

“You’re gonna’ need to hold on a little tighter than that.” Dream said cockily. George furrowed his eyebrows.

“What do you--” He started, before being cut off by a force of Spirit starting to sprint forward. In response, he did as he was told, lurching forward to grasp onto Dream’s torso with his arms, his face buried into his back. Despite the adrenaline and wind starting to pick up as they moved quickly forward, George took a moment to enjoy the way Dream smelled, even through the leather chestplate he was currently wearing. It wasn’t a particularly sweet smelling scent, but it was Dream. 

After a few minutes, Dream pulled on the reins, reeling Spirit in to slow down to a slow walk. George kept his head buried into Dream’s shoulder, muscles strong against his soft cheeks. Dream wiggled his shoulder slightly, nudging to George that they were done speeding through the grass, though he wouldn’t complain about the way George’s arms pressed into his waist. He couldn’t stop smiling, proud that he’d convinced George to run away with him for the time being.

“I can’t believe you talked me into this.” George said, as if reading Dream’s mind, arms slowly unraveling around Dream’s waist. The younger sighed at the loss of contact. 

“It really didn’t take much convincing.” Dream said. He was right. George kept quiet, humming to himself. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, George could be just as bold as Dream. He just needed to get egged into it sometime.

They trotted around in a comfortable silence like that for quite some time. It was nice to hear the animals winding down for the afternoon, the slight rustling of the trees and the smell of pine in the air from Autumn.

George leaned back on Spirit, looking up out of the woods while Dream gave his horse a pat on the neck. 

“George?” Dream spoke, breaking the silence.

“Yes?”

“I really am sorry about the other night.”

“Dream. It’s fine.”

“It’s not.”

“Well, I guess not.” George said softly, “But it is now.”

“Okay.”

“Mmhm.” George leaned forward, slightly hesitant and unsure of his actions, but rested his forehead back against Dream’s back. “Thank you for this. Really.”

Dream paused, enjoying the weight of George’s head against his back. He had hardly paid attention to the way his legs fit around him on the saddle as well, plush against his own legs. Neither of them had correct gear on for riding, they’d probably be sore tomorrow, but it was worth it to be close to each other like this. 

“Anything for you, sweet prince.” He teased. George head butted him slightly, still blushing at the sarcastic nickname nonetheless. 

Dream tried not to think of the frustration he felt over these potential suitors. How little they knew about his George, his person. How he felt like scaring every single one of them away, just to keep George to himself. And George tried not to think of the talk he’d be getting back at home, despite the ways that Dream would try to cover for him. Someone would probably come looking for the two of them soon.

They floated slowly through the forest on Spirit, taking in the nature, and each other. At the end of the day, even if they were chewed up and spat back out by the king and queen, they’d still have each other. They’d still chuckle about it at night, under the light of a candle. There would always be the two of them together, one way or another. 

**Author's Note:**

> sry for no betareading! I am lazy!!! might do a continuation of this??
> 
> message me on twit @mehitsujii to talk ab dnf i have brainrot <3


End file.
